


A Bloody Burden

by Bardic_Bat



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Broken Fang Cave, Castle Volkihar, Gen, Helgen, Morrowind, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Skyrim - Freeform, Vampires, Vampirism, Whiterun, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3917590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bardic_Bat/pseuds/Bardic_Bat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Volsa, a Dark Elf spellsword for hire from Morrowind finds herself in Skyrim, in the middle of a vampire problem, which results in many adventures,enemies and allies. Despite all this, the lust for blood, is a pain in the- oh, never mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Illegal Dark Elf

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry for any typos or grammatical errors (or misspellings of cannon names)
> 
> Note 2: I've misspelled Volda's name. It's supposed to be Volsa. I am fixing that as you read this.

She sighed angrily, kicking a stone across the landscape of grass, pine trees, and mountains. She knew she was lucky to have not been caught crossing the border illegally- but didn't help her current situation. The Dark Elf stared at the sky, wondering why she ever left Morrowind. The work and pay there was just fine, and she had gotten a good start.  
Now she was in the middle of a forest, in a different country,alone and had been recently robbed. It was the worst she had ever been, and she didn't see a quick way out of it. She had been stuck in the forest for at least a week, hunting different animals and fending the more vicious ones off with an iron dagger. More times than the Elf could count she had to run away from bears, spiders or some other creature wandering the cold wilds of Skyrim.  
Sighing again, she headed up a nearby hill, to see if she could get a better view of her surroundings. The wind bit into her skin, making her shiver slightly. She had a chest piece of fur armor and some sturdy boots, but otherwise was left with a rough-spun pair of pants and a shirt to match. She wore a make-shift bracer from some leather.  
The Elf clutched at large rock, pulling herself over it and ended up at the top of the hill. Below her the land spread out, the hill commanding an impressive view. And to her surprise- and hope- below the hill, to the north was a town. A small one, but a town no less. Her heart soared and she began scrambling down the hill, and soon, jogging across the ground in the general direction of civilization. She smiled, perhaps a little grimly, but mostly happily.

It took her two hours or so, but she got to the town- just in time to witness the carriages of prisoners going into said city.She regarded them with questioning looks, but followed the last one in, desperate for help. The Imperial solider trailing the cart on a horse gave her a curious look, but said nothing to the Dark Elf woman.  
She detoured away from the carts into the local inn, and sat down at the bar. The bar tender, a young woman, hurried over to her.  
"What can I get ya?" she asked with a heavy Nordic accent.  
"Some alto wine, bread and salmon please." the Elf ordered. The lady nodded and hollered the request at someone in the backroom.  
"Not from around here, are ya?" she asked, leaning against the counter.  
"No. Came from Morrowind." the Elf answered curtly.  
"What brings an elf like you from Morrowind, to Skyrim?"  
"Work and money. And the war brewing here. People will need extra help, no?" she smiled cheekily and the bar tender laughed.  
"My name's Risll. Risll of the Drink, as the locals call me."  
"I'm Volsa." the Elf exchanged. Volsa smiled as she heard a call from the backroom, signalling her order was ready. Risll brought her the plate and the bottle of wine and Volsa removed herself from the bar to a chair by the fire.  
The meal was quickly devoured. Volsa payed and rented a room for the night, sleeping off some of the ale and wine she had later in the night. People weren't used to seeing a Dark Elf with white hair, scars and dark red war paint challenging various Nords, Imperials and the odd Breton to drinking matches every hour- but that's what Volsa did.  
The next morning she bought a complete set of fur armor, some arrows and sharpened her dagger before setting out. She also learned the town was called Helgen, and following the road would bring her to Riverwood and from there, Whiterun. She knew she would be stopping at Whiterun for at least three days, even if it was a city of thieves and thugs. She could probably loot some forts or ruins for better weaponry or armor. She didn't have any quells with killing to get what she wanted. Volsa was also informed that another city, Falkereath was extremely close, but also much smaller than Whiterun, so she decided to travel to the latter.  
Volsa couldn't convince a local to lend her a horse, so this journey also had to made on foot- at least, the latter parts. One of the merchants was traveling out of town to Riverwood and agreed, that for her protection and a little gold he would give her a ride. After all, Volsa wasn't just skilled with a blade, but with magic as well- equally so. Spellswords were excellent protection.  
The ride was largely uneventful, expect for a few bandits in the middle of it. they weren't carrying much, but of course, they had ale and a few septims, which Volsa promptly took. The ale was gone by the next day.  
The merchant dropped her at Riverwood, where she approached a Nord who was yelling at a Bosmer. After the row was finished Volsa spoke up, instead going after the elf.  
"Good day, fellow elf." she greeted, hoping to get on his good side and get some work.  
"Greetings, sister Elf. Good to see a familiar face so far from home." he smiled.  
"Name's Volsa." she held out a hand and he shook it.  
"Faendal."  
"What's Riverwood like?" she knew to start off with small talk and build your way up.  
"Riverwood's agreeable enough, I suppose. For a Nord village," he paused before continuing,"There's beauty here unmatched in all of Skyrim, to be sure."  
"That's quite a statement....especially for someone who seems to have a grudge."  
"Hmm. Maybe you've already met Camilla Valerius?" he inquired.  
"Afraid not. Why? A lady you're lusting after?" she half teased.  
"Ahha, you've caught me red handed, sister Elf! If only Camilla shared my affections. Or even knew about them." he ended on a solemn note.  
"Ah. I'm guessing this lady has something to do with that argument you had earlier with that Nord?"  
"Yes. That'd be Sven. He's a bard, so he says. Occasionally he finds time to do his job here at the mill. Thinks his ballads and sonnets are going to convince Camilla Valerius to marry him. As if she would say 'yes.' An intelligent, beautiful woman like her wouldn't fall for that nonsense... I hope." he lamented.  
"You 'hope'? You don't sound very confident about that, friend."  
"I've been thinking... maybe Camilla needs a little help seeing Sven for what he is. Could you... could you give her this letter, and say it's from Sven? I think I've matched that Nord's lack of cleverness perfectly." he asked, his eyes brightening.  
"Only if there's some change in it for me." she bargained. Faendal nodded and handed her a small coin purse of septims. Volsa winked and walked off, saying over her shoulder, "I'll report back once the deed is done."  
It didn't take her long and soon Faendal was happy with her and her work. He gave her a few more septims for her trouble. She inquired about a ride to Whiterun, but he shook his head.  
"However....if you're looking for a companion I happen to be heading that way." he proposed, and added in a whisper, "I need to make a ring for Camilla."  
Volsa laughed and agreed, happy for some friendly company. They departed later that night, hiking through the wild.

It was three days later that they ended up lost. On the third day some bandits had attacked them on the road- large, powerful Orcs that neither of them was prepared to deal with. Volsa cursed herself for not buying better equipment. Faendal had somehow remanded ever optimistic about their ever worsening situation. They hadn't seen deer in over a day and a half, had very little food left (although they had quite a bit of water) and both of them were not prepared for a journey off of the safer roads of Skyrim.  
Volsa muttered, annoyed at ending up with the same problems she had when she arrived. As she sulked, looking for food, she caught movement in the corner of her eye. She jerked her head to follow it and spotted a deer. It took her a moment to register it and than it was dead with an arrow in it's side. Volsa quickly skinned it and carved out some meat, and whistled for Faendal. He came running a moment later and soon Volsa had started a fire with her magic and they were cooking deer.  
They kept the hide and used it as blanket in the chilly nights, and used the antlers to make two small bone knives. Their time in the wild dragged on for three more days, until, on the seventh day, when Volsa was atop a hill, she spotted White run int he distance.  
Two days before hand they had worked out Whiterun was roughly north, so they had been hiking in that direction. And finally, their efforts bore fruit.

Volsa left Faendal in Whiterun, right before she ran into a dead giant and a group called the Companions. She declined their offer,instead fetching a sword for married man. It wasn't too hard- after she killed the first bandit, who had some studded hide armor and a better sword, things went smoothly. She collected a few gems, some gold, and got payed all at the same time.  
She bought a few things, like healing potions and a new bracer, before besting a Nord called Uthgerd the Unbroken in a fist battle.  
Than Volsa caught wind of rumours of vampires. The moment she heard the word in the market she sauntered causally towards the conversation and listened in, curiosity perked. She had no grudges towards vampires, but if she could get payed for clearing them out....  
"Hello, ladies, i heard you spekaing about some vampires. Any chance I could get some septims out of this?" she asked hopefully. One of the ladies -Volsa thought her name might be Ysolda- nodded and smiled.  
"If you can get them out of Broken Fang cave I'm sure not only me, but the Jarl would be happy. I could pay you, and perhaps, if you speak to Jarl Balgruuf, he might give you something for your troubles."  
That night Volsa informed Uthgerd and they left for Broken Fang cave.


	2. A New Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, my apologies for any typos and/or errors.

The cave had a small path leading into a large room. Volsa halted her follower, took out her bow and motioned for Uthgerd to the same. Volsa spotted a vampire- just a lone female, a skeleton nearby. Aiming carefully Volsa shot, Uthgerd following suit, but the vampire didn't fall yet. Instead, she chanted and and out of coffins came two more skeletons. She signaled to Uthgerd to take the flesheless ones- Volsa could take the vampire.  
She put away ehr bow and quickly drew her sword, readying a spell in the other hand- flames to be exact. The vampire striked first, casting drain life on Volsa. the Dark Elf ran at the vampire, her sword out at her side, and brutally swung along to chop into the vampire's side. The woman's face was that of surprise as she uttered a cry and fell dead. Uthgerd finished off the last skeleton with a massive swing of her own blade.  
Volsa searched the vampire's body, taking her armor. It was a much heigher quality, with plated metal. unfortuantly it left her cleavage open. _Typical vampire_ , she chided the armor and dead body. The vampire also had some gold and ingredients on here, both of which was taken by Volsa. Uthgerd spotted stairs leading to the next room- the doorway was a coffin.  
Both of them dropped into a crouch, Uthgerd drawing her bow and Volsa keeping her sword and flames out.  
Inside was a master vampire feeding. Volsa's eyes widened, and signaled for Uthgerd to go back. Uthgerd tilted her head, but Volda didn't stop signalling. Eventually the Unbroken backed quietly out of the cave, but didn't leave.  
Volsa stared dead-ahead. Master vampires were tricky to deal with- they were more powerful than nromal vampires, but they also were more intent on recruiting others to their ranks. Volsa figured she could gain his trust, by willingly letting him turn her, and than killing him.  
After that....well, she'd have to pray and pray some more to be cleansed. Hopefully it would work out for the best.  
She sheathed her weapons (including the spell) she made a noise. The master vampire swung around to look at her, a hungry look in his sunken eyes, her cheeks hollow, skin sickly pale and brow sticking out. Other than that he could have been considered handsome- dark red hair with side-burns, some subtle and a nice nose. He smiled, showing all his teeth, his fangs almost out of place with their bloodstains. He straightened up and looked at Volda.  
"Well, well, if isn't a....visitor." he said, pacing towards her.  
"Uh...excuse me sir. I heard that this was a...uh, vampire lair. I was hoping someone could...uh, perhaps....help me." she stuttered, and not falsely. There was something about this vampire, something so _hungry_.  
"Oh? Perhaps I could...help. Come closer,why don't you? I won't...bite." he giggled at his own terrible joke. Volsa inched closer, coming into the room. The master vampire came and stood across from her, five feet separating the two.  
"Uh..." she trailed off.  
"So what exactly do you need...help with?" he pursued.  
"I'd..uhm, like to be one of...you. A vampire." she said, nervous.  
'Oh! A willing one.....those are rare." he flashed a half grin, and continued, 'I could do it right now, if you'd like." Volsa mutely nodded and he came towards her, and she couild see that his mouth was stained with blood, and parts of his face.  
And then, quick as a flash, he grabbed the base of her skull and everything faded away.

Everything was spinning and was too bright and colourful. Her head pounded, and her thoughts were sluggish and groggy. The last thing she recalled was the master vampire....her skull......darkness.  
That bastard! He had knocked her out before she had been turned. She wondered how long she had been out for- hours or days or weeks? There was no telling. She blinked furiously and attempted to sit up- and she saw that she was still in Broken Fang cave. she was in the first room, next to some stairs, unceremoniously dumped there. The master vampire was-  
Was right next to her. He was holding a small bottle and looked extremely surprised. His face was almost normal, expect for those hungry, hungry, hungry eyes. He was cleaned up as well.  
"How looongggh...?" her words were slurred.  
"Three days. I kept you alive. And I kept you knocked out. I've been betrayed before." he smiled, and offered a hand. She pushed it away and sat up herself. The master vampire bakced away a little, leaving the bottle beside her.  
"What is your name?"  
"V-Voolluhhhssa." she replied, words still slurred. Her mouth felt....slick, yet dry, like if you poured oil over your clothing.  
"Volsa. Suiting." he flashed a quick smile and went on, "I'm called Varolin Catamus." Catamus picked up the flask he had set aside, shook it, uncorked it and offered the substance inside to Volda. She took the bottle, sniffed it and almost threw it away in disgust. Inside the container was blood- reeking, stinking, blood, the kind she smelled when her sword bit into the side of a human race.  
"It'ss bblooud!" she acused Catamus, her mouth feeling less oily.  
"Obviously. If you're going to be..one of us, you';re going to have to get used to it." he walked over, pulled something out of his robes and dumped it in the blood. "It's sugar." he said simply, corking and shaking the flask before giving it back.  
Volsa reluctantly sipped the sugared blood- it tasted of metal, metal that was uncannily sweet, almost like a dagger coated in wine. Or at least, what she might imagine a dagger coated in wine to taste like. But it was warm, and sticky, and did not flow the same way water or ale did, coating her throat and mouth, choking her tastebuds.  
She resisted the urge to spit it back out. She could still kill Catamus, but only if she kept her cover, which meant drinking the blood.  
"I've been forcing blood down your weak little throat for three days. It's the only thing that's kept you alive and well." Catamus spoke up, an edge in his voice, "I had to seduce two seprate woman in Whiterun and Falkreach just to get enough for the both of us. You'll have to do your own hunting after today, fledgling."  
Volsa choked a little on the thicker than usual fluid, and blinked a few times. She licked her lips, trying to make them un-oily and felt her tongue scratch something....new. She felt her canine teeth- they had become fangs. She felt her mouth, wondering if she had accidentally cut herself in her sleep- and it seemed that she had. A few different sores dotted the inside of her mouth and a canker on her tongue. That explained the oily, almost bloody state of her mouth.  
Catamus was watching her drink the blood.  
"Ohhh, wouuld yoou likke soome?" she asked, speech improving and offered the blood. Catamus took the flask happily and drank deeply, leaving a little left.  
"It's hard to down in the beginning, but soon you'll be...hungry for more." he confessed. Volsa shuddered at the thought of more blood. It seemed, un-pure, un-clean to her, like cannibalism, or Namira's followers.  
"Ooh. Thaat makkes sense I guess." she replied, finally griping the hold of her words.  
"I'm going out for a bit. Perhaps I'll get you a....friend." the way Catamus said friend implied that he could be bringing back human cattle or a new vampire. He left the cave, the almost empty flask dropped on the floor behind him.  
Volsa stood up unsteadily and her stomach growled. She plundered for food, and found some half-brunt rabbit meat. She returned to the spot she had awoken and nibbled, all the while thinking of how to kill Catamus, escape, and cure this disease.  
It wouldn't be hard to slip a dagger between the master vampire's ribs, but curing herself.....that'd be a challenge. Maybe she should just stay this way....after all vampires had certain perks others did not. She could feel the power of draining another's life coursing through her, the vigor of night in her veins. She somehow knew that she could see in the dark, or bring a dead body back to life for a period of time.  
But all of it felt....unjust. Dirty. She felt as if she had forsaken some path, and headed down a darker, colder one, littered with corpses.  
Volsa didn't understand why, but the idea of lycanthorpy and vampirism had always repulsed her a little. She wasn't standing against it, but she didn't want to be a werewolf or a vampire herself, regardless of the perks.  
Yet, perhaps, she could adjust to this new way of living. She had lived on the overcast Solstheim for a stint anyways- she was used to lack of sunlight. The fangs, however was new, as was the blood-sucking.  
Volsa soon heard footsteps- Catamus was returning. She hadn't really thought of wither or not to leave him alive- if he had a family, perhaps she would. If not, well...she wasn't sure yet. She was used to killing without question, being a sellsword and such, but if she was slaying of her own accord she didn't want needless bloodshed.  
Especialy something that might stain her new life.  
Catamus entered the cave, leading one female Nord and a female Breton. The Breton had the signature eyes of a vampire, while the Nord just looked very scared.  
"I've brought cattle...and the aforementioned...friend." Catamus smiled. The Nord paled even more at the word cattle, and the Breton nodded slightly when Catamus said friend.  
"Wirnds. Frelha Wirnds. Of the Volkihar clan. Perhaps you've heard of us, fledgling?"


	3. A Lord's Bloodline

Volsa stared at the Breton. Wirnds hair was a dark brown, her face all bones and angles, just like any other vampire. But that name she said- Volkihar- struck a note with Volsa. A whisper she had heard, a faint rumor paired with a much larger one.  
The Dawnguard.   
The dark elf raised her eyebrows in surprise.  
"I've heard murmurs of your clan." she replied, trying to sound steadfast.  
"I do hope they paint the right picture of us." Wirnds cleared her throat and continued, "Catamus here knows of us. We're a very powerful clan of vampires, with ancient blood. Our Lord Harkon extends an invite to you- he needs recruits for his plans."  
"And what would they be?"  
"I can't say here- Catamus, although a friend wants nothing to do with the Volkihar's "scheming" as he calls it." she paused again, and added in a menacing tone, "You have three days until the invitation expires." Wirnds handed Volsa a slip of parchment and swooped out of the cave. Catamus watched her go, a scowl forming on his gaunt face.   
"Those bastards." he muttered quietly and looked to the Nord. The man of the north was bulky and heavy-built, a perfect sterotype. his hands were bound my rope and fear was plain on his face as Catamus gestured for him to walk over. The vampire knocked the mortal out, and laid his body in the middle of the floor.  
"Fresh blood." he said, waving a hand. Volsa looked at the unconscious human and gulped. She strode over, bent down, and bit his neck, drinking the blood that came pouring out of the wound. The man made no sounds in his forced sleep. Catamus watched her and Volsa could feel his smile.  
She started to smile inwardly as well. The power she felt and the offer of more was far too tempting for her.  
She'd be visiting the Volkihar clan soon enough.  
"That's enough, fledgling. My turn." Catamus spoke up and swept her aside as she wiped her mouth. He bit the other side of the Nord's neck, and filled two flasks with the leftovers. He dumped some sugar into one of them and passed it to Volsa with a fiendish grin.  
*  
Castle Volkihar. It sat on an island, north of Solitude. Volsa smirked when she saw it. The parchment Wirnds had given her had the address she could use to send a message via courier. It had been one word-yes. Nothing more was needed to be said. She was ready to see what kind of blood the Volkihar's had.   
It didn't take her long to find the tiny boat on the very edge of the water. There was a fort behind her- guarded by some Thalmor scum- but she ignored it, as much as slaughtering them all appealed to her. Thalmor were never good news in her book.  
Volsa jumped into the boat, untying it and set out for the castle in the distance. She had surprised herself with accepting this new found vampirism. It was something to be used to her advantage, new powers, new allies, and easy enough to hide if she could manage to feed. Besides, she could feel this new found understanding of different magics in her blood- she knew now how to drain life with a simple spell that could also infect others, how to reanimate corpses, how to seduce either genders into a lifeless lull.   
Volsa pulled up onto the rock, and wasting no time, strode blody up to the doors, where a doorkeeper let her inside. He looked a little greasy, but was dressed as fine as any other vampire. He gave a little bow and smiled at her as she entered the entrance hall.  
Of course, it was over the top and grand, decorated heavily and opening up into a banquet hall just as majestic and gaudy. Sitting at the horseshoe shaped table were a handful of vampires, all feasting on cattle of different races. Hellhounds waited in the flanks, ready to attack intruders. Volsa spotted Wirnds sitting close to the man at the head of the table.  
He had dark hair, a slightly larger then average build, and was looking straight at her, his vampiric eyes seeming to smirk at her arrival.  
"Step forward, newcomer, and introduce yourself. We're all so...eager." He tipped his head, and all the others turned to look at Volsa as she stood in the middle of the feast.  
"I'm called Volsa Flamesteel. I hail from Morrowind, coming to Skyrim for work. I am a spellsword for hire." she gave a tiny bow as she finished, locking eyes with the man at the head of the table as he got up. He approached and shook her hand firmly, twisting it slightly so he came out on top of the handshake. She let him win, smiling nicely.  
"I greet you, Volsa Flamesteel. I am Lord Harkon. I am to assume you've accepted Wirnds's offer to see what exactly is the Volkihar blood is?"  
"Indeed."  
Lord Harkon backed up, leaving three feet between them as shadows pooled around his transforming body, and where the average looking man once stood was something more akin to a Daedra.   
Grey skinned, with a pair of small, jagged wings, talons on the feet and hands, an elongated face, and floating a few inches above the floor was Harkon. The face grinned, making it look more like a tear in his new skin.  
"This," he began in a deeper voice, "Is the gift of the Volkihar blood. Only my blood line, of which I am the founder of in Skyrim, can become a vampire lord of lady. This new form is the true appearance of a vampire, stronger and more powerful then the weak bodies of mortals." he stared at her, cold eyes glinting with a menace.  
"It, my lord, is truly majestic, wonderful in all it's glory."  
"Will you accept the gift of the Volkihar bloodline, fledgling?"  
"I will." Volsa said with as much determination as possible. The Daedra like form scared her, and if this was something she had to fight,well, she would have run away by now. Yet, to have that ability, to become a seven foot towering demon, conquering those that stood in her path, that was something she could use.  
So she accepted the gift, as Lord Harkon called it, and he floating forth biting her once again in the neck, as she fell to the floor, weak at the knees. . She saw the other vampires grinning at her, their expressions full of smugness, some laughing quietly to themselves at Volsa's reaction. Her sight swam and she had the sensation of someone carrying her towards a room in the castle, but she could not see or hear who it was. Dimly the sound of laughter reached her ears, but soon she was away in a silent part of the keep, in a bed, fighting the sleep that wanted to overcome her.  
She held her stomach, trying to stop herself from throwing up, but failed miserably, the vomit splattering over the bed, making a mess. She hoped desperately that no body would come and check on her. Thank the Daedra that nobody did.  
Volsa lay there, drifting off, trying to hold her stomach in, and trying not to pass out. She didn't know how long she lay there. A vampire entered, cleared the vomit, and put a flask of blood near her bed and left, no one else coming in or out of her room.She sat there, lost in sleepless dream. She knew she would be fine soon, a new power running through her veins, but right now she needed to rest. She drank some of blood, rolled over and fell asleep.


End file.
